Report from the Aleutians

 

Army Captain John Huston

REPORT FROM THE ALEUTIANS                       B                                                               USA  (47 mi)  1943  d: John Huston

Since there’s a Middle East war going on at the moment, maybe we should take a look back at one of America’s greatest film directors, John Huston, making a World War II-era documentary about life among American soldiers protecting Alaska’s Aleutian Islands as they prepare for combat, made while serving as a captain in the U.S. Army Signal Corps, a film he narrates from a first-person perspective with assistance from his father Walter Huston, editing it himself, occasionally accompanied by a Dimitri Tiomkin score, nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Documentary Feature category.  Unlike many wartime films glorifying combat, this prioritizes the monotony and endurance required in this remote, fog-bound theater, where soldiers faced constant dampness, mud, and isolation, a quiet and contemplative film that focuses on the everyday lives of soldiers, prioritizing operational realism, offering a unique and intimate perspective on the war, the first of four documentary films Huston made while serving in the army, having already made WINNING YOUR WINGS (1942), a recruitment film for the Army Air Forces hosted by Jimmy Stewart, following this film with THE BATTLE OF SAN PIETRO (1945), revealing the failures of America’s intelligence agencies that led to alarming deaths, which the War Department rejected because it was perceived as promoting an anti-war message, believing it would be “demoralizing to men who were going into combat for the first time.”  Having been subjected to perpetual German artillery shelling and prolonged aerial bombing operations during the filming, Huston would experience reoccurring nightmares and psychological distress, which led him to make his most personal war documentary, LET THERE BE LIGHT (1946), among the first films to examine the effects of war and post-traumatic stress, which was censored for 35 years, until 1981.  After the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, Hollywood studio executives, directors, actors, and film industry professionals either volunteered or accepted commissions to enlist in the armed forces to help rally public support for the war effort.   Around that same time, director John Ford made THE BATTLE OF MIDWAY (1942), an 18-minute short filming the Japanese aerial assault of Midway Island as it happened, a montage of battle footage and voiceover narrators, the first and most influential of the government-sponsored combat reports, which resulted in two 16mm cameras destroyed and the director wounded, one of four films to win an Academy Award in the inaugural year for Documentary Feature.  The Office of War Information (OWI) was less pleased with the Huston documentaries, finding them more problematic, often placing veterans in a less than flattering light, where the faded images and sound quality of this film feel crudely raw, reflective of the difficulties involved with the equipment. 

Huston’s second documentary for the war effort is a record of the construction of an air base on the barren Adak Island in the Aleutians, consisting of more than 200 islands in the Bering Sea off the coast of Alaska, stretching over 1,200 miles toward Russia, where this chain includes 57 volcanoes and features what may be the foggiest, rainiest, and windiest weather in the United States, with no trees to speak of on the islands and very little brush, with soft, spongy tundra making maneuvering difficult, as vehicles would sink into the water-logged, volcanic soil, providing enormous tactical and logistic difficulty for those assigned there.  Six months after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, perhaps hoping to divert attention away from Midway, the Japanese carrier-based aircraft attacked Dutch Harbor on Amaknak Island in the Aleutians for two days in June 1942, establishing military garrisons on the islands of Attu and Kiska, taking the few inhabitants as prisoners, though this assault may have actually intended to complement the Midway operation, with the purpose of setting the conditions for a Japanese occupation of the Aleutian Islands, which in turn was to prevent the United States from using them as a base to attack Japan from the north, as Adak Island is closer to Japan than any other American outpost.  To this day, it remains one of the few sites in the United States to be subjected to an aerial bombardment by a foreign power.  For various reasons, the Aleutians campaign, which continued into the summer of 1943, has remained obscure in comparison to the Guadalcanal campaign and the Allied landings in North Africa, part of which is due to the utter geographic remoteness of the area and the extremely hostile weather conditions, and also because both the United States and Japan deployed only the minimal forces necessary in comparison with other theaters of operation, where the fifteen-month struggle is often referred to as the “Forgotten War.”  It is, however, the only campaign that included ground combat on American soil in the Western Hemisphere in World War II.  With Huston spending 6 months on the island with the troops, the campaign in the Aleutians was characterized by an uneven pace of sea and air actions, dependent as much on weather conditions as on available forces, with the film depicting the down time contending with the everpresent snow, mud, and rain, striking for its banality, featuring unglamorous depictions of base life, including drab images of latrine cleaning and mess hall meals, with troops besieged by boredom, as there is literally nothing for miles due to the extreme isolation.  Yet it also shows the indomitable spirit and heroic effort involved in preparing for the attack on Japanese-occupied Kiska and Attu Islands, made before the August 1943 invasion, which was a joint American/Canadian effort, punctuated by occasional bombing raid rehearsals, with actual B-17 and B-24 bombing raid footage seen at the end of the film.    

Having already made an important Hollywood film, THE MALTESE FALCON (1941), Huston, along with John Ford, William Wyler, and Frank Capra were called upon to document the developing conflict.  The film was shot in Technicolor on 16mm by Huston, Rey Scott, and four others during the fall and winter of 1942, compiling footage obtained by different members of the unit on fifteen different flight missions, suffering through the same hazards and hardships experienced by the troops, where it’s impressive to build an airstrip in just 36 hours against formidable odds, as foul weather was a constant issue, with heavy fog and ice enveloping the aircraft, along with fierce wind storms exceeding 100 mph, where it seems impossible to fly in these harsh conditions, grounding aircraft for up to 80% of days.  Weather and the remote terrain may have been more of an obstacle than the Japanese troops awaiting them, as soldiers played cards, grew out their beards, and were forced to survive on meager rations, taking to reading each other’s mail to avoid the tedium, yet were also seen singing and playing music.  Among the more harrowing scenes is a funeral sequence where a pilot shot down was laid to rest, yet the message seems to be in jingoistic support, offering patriotic conviction and optimism, always wanting to project a completely successful mission.  Most of the film stresses the readiness and alertness of the air squadrons, who were called upon to protect a major flank from the advancing Japanese, with Scott going over Kiska targets nine times in six days, while Huston himself had two close brushes with death, one of them during a crash landing, and the other when a 20mm enemy shell struck his aircraft during a mission, fatally wounding the waist gunner beside him.  Coming before the advancement of commercial aircraft, which was largely developed in the 50’s and 60’s, this was happening at a time when flying was still a novelty, where big four-engine, propeller bomber planes were an innovation at the time.  Dwelling extensively on take-offs and landings of smaller fighter planes, which were used in air combat against the Japanese “Zero” planes, it’s important to stress the spectacular nature of aviation, which Huston effortlessly captures, yet the film provoked only a lukewarm response from the small audiences to see it, quickly pulled from movie theaters for revealing a top secret target, perhaps put off by the sorrowful tone and mood of regret that permeates war footage, as so many families are affected.  The Aleutian Islands campaign led to the loss of 1,481 American lives, along with 4,350 Japanese soldiers.  More than 30 million soldiers and civilians were killed in the Pacific theater during the course of the war, compared with the 15 to 20 million killed in Europe, offering us a chance to reflect on so many soldiers who died to protect our free way of life.

Report From The Aleutians - Full Movie | John Huston, Walter ...  Entire movie may be seen on YouTube (46:53)

2018 Top Ten List #7 Isle of Dogs

Director Wes Anderson with his cast of characters

ISLE OF DOGS                                 A-                   

USA  Germany  (101 mi)  2018  ‘Scope  d:  Wes Anderson

Endlessly charming and exquisitely entertaining, offering a treasure-trove of cultural references, this beautifully conceived, subversive venture into Japanese culture is an absolute delight, inventing an imaginary world that in the worst way resembles our own, with political corruption becoming the norm, where a deceived populace is fed a string of lies from a populist politician thoroughly entrenched in demagoguery and fear-mongering, though viewed from the point of view of a tragically rejected animal formerly known as man’s best friend.  Set 20 years into the future, Megasaki City, Japan has become an openly pro-cat culture that defiantly rejects dogs, stooping to any level to sway public opinion against the whole lot of them, leading dirty tricks campaigns to smear their good names, eventually infecting virtually every dog in the city with dog flu, then spreading lies and creating panic by informing the public this threatens to infect the human population as well.  Getting a firm mandate to completely eradicate dogs from society altogether, they are eventually quarantined, and in a nod to John Carpenter in Escape from New York (1981), the entire dog population is rounded up and sent to an isolated uninhabited island of toxic waste and chemical ruin, not to mention garbage as far as the eye can see in a place called Trash Island.  While not as far-fetched as it might seem, this exact same solution was proposed by Nazi Germany in the summer of 1940, known as the Madagascar Plan, with Germany exiling Europe’s entire Jewish population to the African island of Madagascar, eventually scrapped for the Final Solution, resurfacing again during the AIDS epidemic in the 1980’s before the advent of protease inhibitor drugs, when a whirlwind of inaccurate information and negative publicity plagued the minds of ordinary citizens who wanted all those infected with the disease quarantined and sent to isolated internment camps.  Only when people stopped dying did the hysteria from a panicked public calm down and a more rational public policy perspective was developed.  Japan is the only nation that has actually been devastated by nuclear attack, the same culture that brought us GODZILLA (1954), a prehistoric sea monster, and a mutant survivor empowered by radiation that somehow ends up on the loose causing chaos in the streets of Tokyo, much like King Kong (1933) rampaged through the streets of New York.  What works so beautifully is allowing the endless imagination of Wes Anderson’s whimsical universe to mix with this same lowbrow Japanese culture to create what will surely amount to a cult classic.  Propelled by the beating drums of Japanese taiko drums that resemble a percussive attack mode, musical score by Alexandre Desplat, this is the longest stop-motion animation film on record, given a Hollywood A-list of actors doing voice impressions, filled with wry comedic touches throughout, becoming a cautionary tale on abuse of power, yet remaining poignant through the sheer brilliance of Anderson’s filmmaking.

Written by Wes Anderson, Roman Coppola, Jason Schwartzman, and Kunichi Nomura (the voice of Mayor Kobayashi), the political master of ceremony is Mayor Kobayashi, a gruff Toshirô Mifune style character that views his city as a model of decorum, with the spotlight always shining on him, while behind the scenes his villainous henchman Major Domo (Akira Takayama) is carrying out the dirty work, with legions of adoring fans cheering him on, many carrying small lap cats in their arms or wearing anti-dog insignia.  What’s curious is how this information is transmitted, as there is a television commentator (Frances McDormand) live on the scene translating what’s happening in Japanese into English.  But before the mayor carries out his edict, a little backstory is required, introducing Atari (Koyu Rankin), the Mayor’s 12-year-old nephew who was orphaned at the age of 9 when his own parents were lost in a tragic bullet train accident.  The Mayor awarded Atari an army specialized guard dog named Spots to watch after him and be his bodyguard, a rare breed, a short-haired Oceanic speckle-eared sport hound fitted with a transmitter attached to Atari so they were virtually inseparable, that is until the Mayor made Spots the first dog shipped to Trash Island, despite the contentions of a leading scientist, Professor Watanabe (Akira Ito), who claims to be close to finding a cure.  On the island, a kind of LORD OF THE FLIES (1963) hierarchy takes over, with packs of dogs fighting over scraps of food, reduced to a cloud of dust, where the dogs astonishingly enough speak perfect English.  As we are introduced to one band of brothers, their personalities take over, including Rex ,the always sarcastic Edward Norton, the lead commentator and de facto democratic leader, quick to take a vote, where he’s constantly reminded that he’s not the leader, King, Bob Balaban, a one-time dog spokesman for doggy chow, Duke, Jeff Goldblum, who seems to have a telepathic hotline to the latest gossip, Boss, Bill Murray, a former mascot for a Little League baseball team, and Chief, Bryan Cranston, the only stray in the group, who constantly reminds us, “I bite.”  As they distinguish themselves in the trash heap, having to contend with deportations, prison camps, and the threat of extermination, we are transported back to a Japanese high school classroom setting where we are introduced to an American foreign exchange student Tracy Walker (Greta Gerwig) as the science class watches a news report of young Atari commandeering a prop plane to Trash Island in search of his dog, immediately capturing her heart.   A romance and quirky adventure story soon intertwine.    

Our pack of dogs greets Atari after he crash lands on top of a trash heap, but amusingly none of the dogs speak Japanese, so the “little pilot” curiously remains unsubtitled throughout.  Holding out a picture of his dog, the entire crew sets out on an adventure to find him, exploring the far regions of the island, revealing dark historical secrets in the process.  But first, they have to contend with a special ops militarized rescue team, complete with a Terminator-style robotic steel dog and trapping nets that kidnap Atari.  Surviving by the skin of their teeth, Chief is left hobbled by injuries afterwards, running into a perfectly groomed purebred showdog, Nutmeg (Scarlett Johansson), with papers!  Trained to do tricks, she performs one for him in his dire predicament, informing him what’s missing in the trick, like juggling balls with her feet, which is quickly visualized onscreen in his imagination.  She’s the one who convinces Chief, who mistrusts all pet owners, to help the little pilot find his dog, using impeccable logic, “Because he’s a twelve year old boy, dogs love those.”  While at the same time, Tracy goes on an extensive journalistic search for the truth, exposing a massive suppression of the Science Party, who quickly develop a cure for dog flu, but the mayor refuses to distribute the product, as dog disease is the perfect rallying cry for his party, which is only gaining momentum in support.  To make sure word never gets out, the nefarious Major Domo poisons the sushi served to Professor Watanabe under house arrest, calling it a disgraced suicide.  Meanwhile, to the astonishing 60’s tune that no one remembers, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band - I Won't Hurt You - YouTube (2:23), the crew walks to the other end of the island, crossing abandoned factories, a trash-processing plant, and remnants of what was an experimental canine torture chamber, which recalls horrific images of THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU (1966), as these remaining dogs have all been seriously altered and deformed.  It’s here they discover Spots, the leader of the pack, protector of the infirmed, suddenly spurred into action when once again Mayor Kobayashi sends in another drone team with more robotic dogs, with Spots and his small army joining forces with Atari to the rousing musical refrains from Kurosawa’s SEVEN SAMURAI (1954), unleashing a secret counter maneuver against the invaders, where a flashback sequence also reveals Spots and Chief are not only the same breed, but brothers, with Chief offering a heart-rendering story about how he blew an opportunity to have a comfortable home, remaining exiled afterwards, ostracized from society.  This touching family reunion plays into the finale, along with a hacker from Tracy’s class who sabotages the mayor’s doomsday scenario, as well as Tracy’s extensive journalistic exposé in her student newspaper The Daily Manifesto, building to an extraordinary finale that suggests buried underneath the political morass of corruption and deceit lies true human virtue, which offers more hopeful outcomes so long as it has a chance to see the light of day.  What’s particularly astonishing in this film is just how light-hearted and ingeniously comical it is while also subversively probing such hideously dark themes that personify the world we live in today.  It’s like holding a mirror up to our appalling reality that emphasizes xenophobic and racist rabble-rousing in contemporary American politics and asking if there isn’t a better way.  While it may not be on the same level as 2012 Top Ten Films of the Year: #3 Moonrise Kingdom in reaching the pinnacle work of Anderson’s career, it comes close and confirms what an amazing artist he is, continuing to work at such a high level, with no one else in the world producing anything like this. 

Note

There has been a misguided outcry of criticism against Anderson’s use of a white American high school girl, the only non-Japanese student in the class, to save the day in the end instead of allowing a Japanese character to rise from their own ranks to produce similar results, where suggestions of American imperial superiority or racial backlash have fueled the extreme.  Similar charges have been leveled against Disney, by the way.  Culture writer Angie Han at Mashable, Wes Anderson's cultural tourism undercuts the heart of 'Isle of Dogs', called Tracy’s character a “classic example of the ‘white savior’ archetype – the well-meaning white hero who arrives in a foreign land and saves its people from themselves,” adding that the movie “falls into a long history of American art othering or dehumanizing Asians, borrowing their ‘exotic’ cultures and settings while disregarding the people who created those cultures and live in those settings.”  Prominent critics have also raised questions of cultural appropriation, including Justin Chang at The Los Angeles Times, Wes Anderson's 'Isle of Dogs' is often captivating, but cultural sensitivity gets lost in translation, who suggests “It’s in the director’s handling of the story’s human factor that his sensitivity falters, and the weakness for racial stereotyping that has sometimes marred his work comes to the fore…Much of the Japanese dialogue has been pared down to simple statements that non-speakers can figure out based on context and facial expressions…The dogs, for their part, all speak clear American English, which is ridiculous, charming and a little revealing…You can understand why a writer as distinctive as Anderson wouldn’t want his droll way with the English language to get lost in translation.  But all these coy linguistic layers amount to their own form of marginalization, effectively reducing the hapless, unsuspecting people of Megasaki to foreigners in their own city.”  To this one needs to add…Hogwash!  More celebration than appropriation, this is taking the era of political correctness way too far, offering little to nothing in terms of appreciating the merits of the film.  Only in an era of self-obsessed social media would these charges rise to a level of significance.  While this may matter to some and should not be dismissed, it actually misses the heart of the film, which is overwhelmingly in Japanese, retaining the original language, where much of the dialogue remains unsubtitled (as the dogs don’t understand a word Atari is saying), continually emphasizing a prominent central focus layered in feverish reverence for Japanese cultural references, where it’s so unmistakenly a labor of love, an ode to Japanese arts and cinema (Anderson met with the curator of Japanese Arts at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and his storyboard artists visited the collections at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London), which is essentially what fascinated Anderson in making this film, expressed so eloquently by Jessica Kiang from The Playlist, Wes Anderson's 'Isle Of Dogs' Is A Good Boy, A Very Good Boy [Review]:

But on a more immediate and visceral level, the meticulous dedication and joyous commitment Anderson displays to a set of aesthetics he clearly worships are to some extent self-justifying.  In “The Grand Budapest Hotel” Anderson created a fictional Eastern European country in order to exploit a loose set of cultural and aesthetic associations without having them tied to pesky real-world history or geopolitics.  And here he creates a fictional city in what might as well be the fictional country of Japanderson — the better to remythologize the myths that Kurosawa, Miyazaki and the whole Godzilla industry so brilliantly exported, and that have clearly intoxicated him so thoroughly.  No one could come out of “Isle of Dogs” with a sense of disdain for Japanese culture: Anderson’s Japanophilia is as infectious as snout fever, and peculiarly reverent, without a shred of condescension.

Indeed, buried in amongst the surprisingly potent political commentary (the clash between demagogues and experts; the limits of democracy when decisiveness is needed; the value of journalism in the age of propagandist “fake news”) there is a further undercurrent about the value of outsider perspectives, and how much better we are when we blur the lines.  It’s exemplified best by Alexandre Desplat’s stunning score, which combines traditional Japanese taiko drums in a rolling, rumbling, semi-martial rhythm, with unexpectedly whimsical and inescapably Western-sounding instrumentation – saxophones and clarinets, even a little whistling.  Like the film it envelops and rounds out so lushly, the music is a meeting of mutually curious and mutually complementary worlds, and like the proud, resourceful brave and loyal dogs of this ‘Isle,’ even when they’re reunited with their masters and fetching sticks in time-honored tradition, neither is subservient: no one is anyone’s “pet.”  As far as representation goes, the stunning, brimful, extraordinary “Isle of Dogs” can’t really be said to do anyone’s culture a disservice.  Except cat lovers, who should probably mount a boycott.